


Recruitment

by fanboi214



Category: The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-10
Updated: 2016-09-10
Packaged: 2018-08-14 06:32:53
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,344
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8002084
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fanboi214/pseuds/fanboi214
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Set while the Avengers Initiative was still in its planning phase.  Coulson thinks that Agent Barton should be added to the project, but Fury is not so certain a bow and arrow qualifies him to be on the most exclusive team on the planet.  There is a way in which Nick can be persuaded to change his mind, however….</p>
            </blockquote>





	Recruitment

**Author's Note:**

  * For [reeby10](https://archiveofourown.org/users/reeby10/gifts).



> Hey all, this is my fill for the Avengers exchange fic. My wonderful recipient gave me lots of options to work with and I tried to integrate a little bit of a lot into this story which is Fury/Coulson/Barton centered with Fury/Coulson in a pre-existing relationship. Hope you enjoy!

“A bow and arrow?” Nick Fury asked incredulously as he looked over the file in his hand. “To be clear, I asked you to find prospective members for a team that includes a giant green rage monster and a man who flies around shooting rockets and you are recommending some guy with a bow and arrow?” 

Fury laid the folder down on his desk and looked up to the two agents before him. The rhetorical question hung in the air for a bit with neither Phil Coulson or Maria Hill offering up an immediate response. Coulson finally broke the silence. “It’s a pretty cool bow,” he quipped the way he always does. Fury knew the MO well. A slight smirk ghosting across Coulson’s face as he otherwise acted like everything about his ridiculous comment was normal. It had a kind of schoolboy charm about it, like he was seeing just how much the teacher would let him get away with. As such, Fury met his comment with a usual bland glare, the kind that said ‘don’t test your luck.’ The near imperceptible twist of a smile that flickered at the corner of Fury’s mouth always told Coulson that Fury was amused by his quips. Sometimes Coulson wondered if that’s why he made them. 

“Barton is one of the best agents that we have. Romanov can vouch for that,” Maria added in an attempt to focus the conversation.

“Does he not know how to use a gun?” Fury looked to her. 

“Barton is extremely proficient in use of firearms and most hand to hand weapons. He chooses to use a bow and arrow.” Maria replied.

“Why?” 

“It’s great for the arms,” Coulson replied with his boyish grin. His eyebrows shooting up a bit at the comment. That’s when Fury realized that Phil wanted to fuck the archer. Ever since Fury had mentioned he’d be open to a threesome Phil had become rather found of pointing out just how attractive other men were. It had been a while since that conversation and Fury had yet to make good on his comments. He shot a pointed look, the kind that said ‘cut this out now.’ Phil obliged. Both men had ‘the thought,’ as they frequently do. The thought that Maria or Natasha or Jasper or whoever was with may have picked up on their silent communications. Everyone in the building was a spy. They were trained to notice those sort of things, but then Fury and Coulson were also spies and they were trained to hide that sort of thing. 

“Clint has excelled in every examination he’s been given. He has years of solid service, and he’s the best marksman we have.” Maria continued. She showed no sign of having picked up on anything, not that she’d show it if she had. 

Fury let out a deep sigh. He seemed to be mulling it all over. Sitting forward in his chair he picked up the file and leafed through again. “Based on his service record he seems like a hot head.” He looked up at Maria. Her lack of response confirmed that for him. “We have enough attitude on the team already. We need someone who realizes they can’t punch their way out of every situation.” 

“You’re cutting him?” Coulson asked a bit too pointedly. 

“We’re testing his skill with persuasion,” Fury grunted. 

***

Clint Barton sat in the center of a subterranean SHIELD conference room. He didn’t know why he was here, but it had to be something pretty damn important considering the place was so top secret that he hadn’t even known this floor existed. He looked across the table where Natasha Romanov was seated. She had been tasked with watching over him, for how long was anyone’s guess. Natasha was not willing to give him any more information and trying to read Natasha Romanov was an exercise in futility. “You honestly can’t tell me anything about what I’m doing here, Nat.” 

“I could,” Natasha replied without batting an eye. 

“It’s gotta be pretty damn important if they have you on babysitting duty,” Clint said. He was poking where he could but not with any real expectations of getting a response. 

“Highly classified,” Natasha responded. 

Barton leaned forward in his chair and studied Natasha. She looked about as bored and disaffected as a teenage cashier. There was no seeing through that veneer. He sighed, “Oh, come on. You’re acting like Fury will have you killed if you give me a hint.” 

“I just might,” a voice boomed from behind him. Clint immediately recognized that voice. Everyone who worked in SHIELD knew that voice. That was the voice of Nick Fury, the seldom seen but omnipresent leader of the top secret government organization. He shot to his feet and spun on his heels. He looked utterly shocked and he couldn’t even hide it.

Nick Fury was not a tall man, and yet Clint felt like he was towering above him. He was not a big man and yet he somehow wore his power in every inch of his body. Clint had, of course, known what Fury looked like. He’d seen him from a distance before but this was the first he’d met the man. It was like meeting a myth. “You came out of nowhere.” 

“He does that.” Coulson said with a laugh. Clint had been so overwhelmed with Fury’s presence that he’d not noticed Phil there initially. He had met Phil once or twice before. He seemed like a nice guy, weirdly nice for someone in the inner circle of America’s most ruthless spy agency. 

The first thing that Fury noticed was Clint’s arms. Phil was right. He had very nice arms, presumably from the bow. In fact, Fury suspected that his entire chest was pretty defined. He could already see the man’s disproportionately large pecs stretching that purple shirt of his to its limits. For what it was worth he also had a classically handsome face. His blonde hair and softer features framed by a sharp jaw to create quite the striking image. Fury wondered if he would’ve noticed any of this if he didn’t already know that Phil was looking to fuck the guy. Probably, but there was no way to tell. All of these thoughts, of course, occurred to Nick Fury very quickly and were in no way reflected in his iron demeanor. He waited a beat for Barton to quell his surprise. Then he said flatly, “Thank you for meeting me here Mr. Barton.” 

“Don’t think I had much of a choice,” Clint replied an attempt to be a smart ass, but it was undercut by his initial shock. They all knew it and no one deigned to express it. “Are you going to tell me what this is about?” 

“I’m putting together a team,” Fury said. 

“And you want me on it?” Barton asked.

“Nope.” Fury said bluntly. “But other people, people I trust, tell me that I should.” Clint smirked a bit as he looked to Natasha. She gave him a subtle nod. As he returned his attention to Fury he caught sight of Coulson to the side. Phil shot him a wink, which admittedly brought a smile to Clint’s face. Fury cleared his throat “Do you care to persuade me that they’re right?”

“This team, what do you want it to do?” 

“Whatever I say,” was Fury’s immediate response. Clint should’ve known better than to expect an answer. That was the life of being a spy. It was this weird mix of power and submission. You had to be the strongest, fastest, smartest one in the room, but you had to know who was handling you and you had to let them handle that power. 

“I’m in.” Clint said. 

“We’ll see. Come this way.” 

*** 

That is how Clint Barton wound up in a perfectly sealed, unbreakable cage on the lower decks of the SHIELD Helicarrier. Fury had brought him on board and instructed him to get in the cage. There was some hesitation on Barton’s part but he went along with things not knowing precisely how he was being tested. As soon as he step foot inside the doors slammed behind him. The floor began to rumble and the Helicarrier took to the sky. “You want on my team. You get out of this cage. You have until the Helicarrier touches down again.” 

That was three days ago. Clint had initially convinced that there was some sort of flaw in the cage. A technical glitch he was supposed to find and exploit. A day and a half into the ordeal Coulson had informed him that this cage was assembled to hold the Hulk himself. It was impenetrable. The morning of the second day Clint tried to incapacitate Maria when she brought him his food. That did not work out well for him. In fact he may have gotten a new scar on his thigh from it.

The time frames were all guesses. He didn’t know how long he’d actually been in here. The lights in the room were on twenty four seven. He didn’t know how close he was coming to failing the test. No one would tell him how far the Helicarrier was traveling. Clint was constantly monitored by Maria, Natasha, Coulson, or Fury himself. They took shifts just waiting outside the cell, staring at him, stonewalling him mostly. The lengths of these shifts and the order of them rotated with no discernible pattern. Clint did notice that Fury always followed Coulson, though. He thought that was odd. Maybe it was logistical. Maybe it was significant he couldn’t tell. 

He had surmised that the only way he was getting out of this cage was if one of those four people let him out. It would seem was his test. Nat seemed like the easiest option. They had a long and close relationship. She wanted him on this mysterious team, but one did not convince Natasha Romanov to do what she didn’t want to do. Maria and Fury both muttered no more than a few words to him when they were on guard duty. Coulson was the mark. That was clear as day. He was constantly chatty, they had struck up a good rapport. The problem Clint was having is that he was sorely lacking something good negotiator needed, leverage...until now.

It was somewhere between nine and ten in the morning on the third day of his imprisonment. Natasha was watching over him with her normal dead stare. Clint was doing his morning workout when Phil came to switch out with her. Shirtless and glistening Clint was on the ground doing pushups during the shift change. He glanced up casually and said “Morning, Phil.” 

“Morning,” Phil replied, but there was a bit of a wobble in his normal light response. It was just a tad forced. 

Clint got to his feet and moved on to performing squats. His eyes fell upon Coulson and he noticed that the other man was staring not at his face but at his heaving chest. “You gonna let me out today, Phil?” Clint asked. 

“Not today.” Coulson replied again lagging a bit. You couldn’t really blame the man. He had been wondering what was lurking beneath Barton’s shirt for a long time and he was being provided the answer in the most glorious way. Clint’s body was lithe, compact, and tantalizingly supple. Each muscle group was perfectly toned from years of use unlike the overly bulgy gym bodies that were everywhere. 

“Come on, Phil. You want me to be on this team of yours don’t you?” Clint tried his normal too direct half-hearted line. 

“Yup,” Phil nodded along to the usual rhythm of their convo. 

“And you want to fuck me, right?” That was certainly not part of their usual convo. Phil balked, caught off-guard and a little speechless. Clint popped his pecs and chuckled, “Eyes are up here, big guy.” 

Phil was caught staring red handed, and there was no way out of it. Though he noticed that when his eyes flitted up to Clint’s face a smile that was plastered across the archer’s face. He knew that they were engaged in a bit of a tango at the moment, but Phil Coulson knew a fake smile. That wasn’t a fake smile. Clint was actually very pleased with this development and he wore it pretty adorably. “Can’t blame a man for staring when you put on a show,” Phil said with a shrug. 

“Oh, trust me I’m not blaming,” Clint responded. He had given up on the squats and sauntered up to the edge of the cell. An almost cartoonishly yet nonetheless effective slinkiness drove his hips with each step. “I’m wondering if your hard. Because we could do this thing here and now.” 

“If I let you out of this cage,” Coulson finished the man’s proposal. He squirmed in place a bit. Not acknowledging that his hardening member was pushing pretty anxiously against the leg of his trousers. “You really think I’d go for that? It’s kinda basic.” 

“Very basic. Very simple. But people have a tendency to be most susceptible to their basest instincts.” Barton again popped his pecs. Phil’s eyes zeroes in on them immediately, his cock jumping a little as he did. “See.” Clint smirked. “So tell me Phil. Are we fucking?” 

“I don’t think my boyfriend would appreciate that very much,” Phil replied coyly, reminding himself of that fact as he said it. Because as it stood this all sounded like a wonderful plan to him. 

“It was worth a try,” Clint shrugged. He walked away from the glass and slumped against the back wall. “I do think you’re pretty damn cute by the way,” he smirked. 

“I think we’re both aware of how I feel about you,” Coulson said straightening his tie and trying to will his raging libido down a bit. 

“Now we are,” Clint corrected. He took a second to study Coulson. Finally he narrowed his eyes and asked, “Be honest. If you didn’t have a man would you be bouncing on my dick right now?”

Now it was Phil’s turn to be quiet and thoughtful. He had two choices. Tell the embarrassing truth or the obvious lie. He split the difference. “Maybe.” 

“You’d be surprise how frequently that works.” Clint said. “This one time I got in a really touchy situation just outside of Vladivostok. They had me dead to rights until the gangbang. I think it was eleven guards total, big burly daddy types. They pounded me from here to kingdom come,” Clint chewed his bottom lip ever so slightly as he talked. His eyes were locked with Phil’s and it was at about this moment Coulson realized that Clint had in fact not stopped his efforts to rile him. “You say what you want about the Russians but damn if they don’t know how to fuck.” 

Any slight doubt at the archer’s aim were wiped away when Clint’s hands found their way down to his belt. With a snap the buckle came undone and he rid himself of the garment. “You know that was the best day of my life,” Clint cooed getting back to his feet. “Just thinking about it gets me so fucking hot,” Clint’s fingers slipped down the sides of his hips. With a tug the pants slid to the ground. Clint stepped out of them, eyes burning a hole in Phil as he creeped closer and closer.

Phil was fighting every urge in his body. He had instantly found Clint attractive but this kind of seduction was not something he was ready for. Barton was giving him the most insidious come hither stare and Phil wanted to crack his slacks open right here. The man was now only wearing a pair of boxers and they seemed like they could snap in two, being stretched on both sides from Clint’s perky ass and stiff dick respectively. “I can still remember what they felt like inside of me,” Clint groaned snaking his right arm down into the back of those boxers. Clint’s eyes rolled back in his head and let out a soft slow moan as he slipped a finger into himself. 

So Clint went on sparing no lurid detail in his extremely accurate retelling of this gangbang. When Coulson didn’t crack, he moved on to the time he wound up hooking up with his undercover husband in Amsterdam, and so on and on and on in what would prove to be the most difficult hours of Phil Coulson’s life. Clint recounted every salacious and sexual field encounter in vivid detail. Phil to his credit managed not to toss the doors open and have sex with Clint then and there. He was a good agent and he simply listened. But when the time came for him to be relieved he snapped.

The second Fury entered the room Phil turned to him and practically shouted “I want to have sex with Barton, sir.” 

Fury was not prepared for the sight that met his eyes. Barton lay naked on the ground fingering himself, while Phil stood fully suited and practically salivating on himself. Phil’s thirst was almost palpable and if Fury was being completely honest part of him was impressed that Clint had gotten Coulson SO wound up. “We talked about this,” Fury responded. They had not, not in any substantial way talked about this. 

“But you said we could have a threesome,” Phil whined, one hand absentmindedly removing his tie in anticipation. 

“Wait,” Barton panted as he let his fingers slide out of his butt. “Are you telling me Fury is your boyfriend?” 

“What the hell do you think you’re doing?” Fury barked at Barton. “Get your fingers back in that ass of yours.” Clint did as he was told making a mental note that Fury was apparently the dominant kind sexually. That honestly didn’t come as too much of a shock. 

“I didn’t mean...” Fury started but with a huff he looked over at Phil and Phil was pouting. He hated to see Phil pout. When he had proposed this threesome idea to Phil he had someone else in mind, someone who unbeknownst to Coulson was sitting in a block of ice in SHIELD headquarters. But having their way with Barton didn’t mean he still couldn’t surprise Phil on his birthday (and what a birthday that turned out to be. Though that is a different story entirely). 

Fury’s lower lip quivered slightly. That was how Phil knew he was winning this argument. He now just had to really sell things. Phil stood before Fury and mewled “Please,” before leaning forward and planting his lips squarely to Nick’s. The kiss was short and not particularly passionate. It was the kind of ‘I love you’ kiss filled with gentle emotion rather than animal lust. As Phil slid out of the kiss he leaned over to Fury’s ear and whispered “Please, Daddy.” 

“You play dirty,” Fury responded with a smirk. He reached out and pressed a button sending the door of the cage open. “Barton, get out here!” 

Clint was on his feet and out that door with military precision. He had won. He had met his goal and at some level that must’ve clicked. Right now though he found himself focused more on Fury and his commanding presence. “On your knees Barton,” Fury ordered motioning to the ground before him. Clint did as he was instructed getting down on the ground inches from Fury’s feet. He noticed Phil had eagerly begun to disrobe already but Nick up to this point remained clothed. “Your going to suck my cock, Barton, and if I decide you do a good enough job at it then and only then will I let my man fuck you. Got it?” 

“Yes, sir.” Clint replied. 

Fury smiled “You pick up fast.” With that Fury unzipped his pants and out flopped what was in all likelihood the biggest dick Clint ever saw. Well over ten inches in it’s semi-hard state he just gaffed a second. No wonder this man had an aura of unshakable confidence. “Get to work.” Fury growled down and Clint’s heart skipped a beat. 

Watching Fury boss Barton around was only increasing Phil’s already off the charts lust for this situation. Stripped down himself he stood behind Fury, gently trailing kisses up the man’s neck. Clint took Fury by the hips and began to run his tongue around the tip of his huge cock. 

Fury let out a low grunt as Barton’s head began to bob back and forth on his engorged member. The man certainly wasn’t an amateur. His tongue danced along the shaft as his right hand cradled Nick’s balls. Coulson nuzzled the side of his face cooing. “Can I?” 

“Not yet.” Fury whispered. He looked down at Clint and said “You want my man’s ass you better take this whole thing down your throat.” 

That actually worried Clint. He was experienced but he’d never come across a tool this substantial. He decided to make a push for it. He sank down onto Fury’s dick. He made it far probably a little over two thirds of the way before he had to come up for air, coughing. “This is impossible,” Clint said. 

“Phil does it all the time.” Fury responded. As Clint looked up he saw that Coulson had gotten the other man’s shirt off. He was moving his trail of worship down Fury’s body. “Care to show him Phil.” 

Coulson bent down besides Clint and in one swift motion deep-throated Fury’s monster. A low guttural growl of pleasure escaped Fury’s lips as Phil cleanly slid off. “You kinda just have to go for it,” Phil advised.

Clint nodded. He grasped Fury’s shaft and readied himself. The sheer thickness and heft of Fury was causing Barton to hesitate. Sensing this Fury spoke, “I want to be clear here. You’re out of the cell. You’ve already passed the test. You don’t have to do this if you don’t want to, but if you want my boy you gotta earn him.” 

Clint looked over at Phil beside him, an encouraging puppy dog look on his face. The man had a more impressive body then he had expected, not that it mattered. That wasn’t what drew people to him. What drew people to him was his charm. In a world were everyone was so dark and broody and silent, he was normalcy. He had achieved what all of them wished they could and good God was that what Clint wanted. 

To be perfectly honest it was a really bad blowjob. Barton was sputtering and choking. He couldn’t not get Fury’s entire cock down his throat, but damn was he trying. That’s how Nick knew that Clint really genuinely wanted Phil as much as Phil had wanted him. So as Clint was once again struggling to choke down Fury’s dick, Nick placed a hand on the back of the man’s head and pushed him into his crotch. Clint’s nose flared and his eyes watered and for a brief second he thought he might die. Then he felt his nose press against the base of Fury’s cock. 

Clint slid off, panting for breath, “Thank you.” Fury raised an eyebrow. “Sir.” Fury smirked and then gave Phil a nod. Phil apparently knew exactly what that meant as he assumed a position on the floor, laying flat on his back. “Now you get over there and you ride him.” 

“With pleasure,” Clint said getting to his feet and positioning himself over Phil.  
The man was smiling from ear to ear, his erection jutting straight up at Clint. “Better get that wet if you expect to take it,” Phil said gesturing downwards. “I promise it won’t be as difficult as Nick’s.” 

That got a laugh from Fury who was behind them. Clint glanced over to see that he’d completely discarded his clothing. He wasn’t sure of Fury’s intentions but when he needed to be he doubted the man would hesitate to tell him, so Clint turned his attention back to Coulson. Barton got down on all fours and let his mouth slide down Phil’s dick. Phil let out an adorable little mewl as Clint’s tongue flitted all around his cock getting it nice and moist for it’s long awaited duty. Coulson reached out gently grabbing the man’s blond locks with one hair and guiding him to an ideal rhythm. 

Phil’s aching cock was sliding in and out of Clint’s mouth when he first felt the cool wetness on his backside. It was a familiar feeling for Clint. He knew it must be Fury’s tongue probing his hungry hole. Pushing in against it readying him for the invasion it was about to experience. As anticipated, this was followed up with Nick sinking his fingers into Clint, though Clint was surprised the man started at two. His cock jumping at the force of the penetration. He let up on Phil’s dick, coming up to center himself. “It’s OK,” Coulson reassured his hand weaving it’s way down the side of Clint’s face. 

“Oh he can take it,” Fury said as he slipped a third finger, eliciting a pained yelp. “Right, boy?” 

“Yes, sir.” Clint responded. Phil was very pleased to see how quickly Clint picked up on the tone of things.

Fury removed his fingers and gave Clint a gentle slap on the ass. “Then get to work.” 

Clint felt like he should be facing Phil as he rode him, and it seems he was right. The other men would’ve corrected him if they felt otherwise. He fit Coulson like a glove, like this was meant to be. Clint almost forgot how amazing it felt to be fucked thoroughly and completely. Each time his hips crashed down into Phil’s groin he felt the other man’s dick slamming against his prostate and releasing a new wave of pleasure. And as the bodily sensations surge through him, Clint would keep his eyes down on Phil on his grounding, intimate, encouraging presence. Hands rested on Clint’s shoulders, steady hands reminding Clint who was actually in charge here. Phil would glance past him now and again and then he’d here Fury in his ear “Faster.” “Harder.” “Harder.” “Get louder.” It surprised Clint how quickly he fell into following the orders, but he did not regret it. Fury knew what he was doing. Clint would feel himself hurtling towards climax and then he’d be pulled back. Clint didn’t even know at what point he started replying “Yes, sir.” to each command.

The three men were flowing like a machine, it was better than either Coulson or Fury could have predicted. Neither had expected Clint to so fully give his body to them to bend as they saw fit. Having a third person gave Phil a modicum of control he didn’t realize he needed and his delicate handling of Barton’s emotions reminded Fury why he loved the man. Nick was feeling more aroused than he had in recent memory and he wasn’t even really participating yet. Phil was loving seeing his man boss this gorgeous guy around not to mention the pure physicality of it all. Clint had snapped into place perfectly. 

The pressure on Clint’s shoulders increased and he felt Fury’s presence next to him. “You like Phil’s cock?” Fury’s voice growled in his ear. 

“Yes, sir.” Clint moaned. 

“You like getting fucked?” 

“It’s the best sex I’ve ever...” Clint shouted but he lost himself by the end of the sentence. Phil had begun to thrust up into him, quickly mercilessly. With Fury’s hands on his shoulders he knew to stay in place and it was all just so much. “I’m gonna...” He threw his head back prepared to climax. 

And then... he didn’t. One of Fury’s hands wrapped around his shaft and he heard the man growl in his ear “Not yet,” Fury must have given Phil a signal because the bucking stopped and Clint felt his throttle gently dropping. “You trust me?” Fury asked. 

“Yes, sir.” Clint replied. 

Clint felt Fury release his manhood. Then he felt Fury’s hands flat on back. Fury pressed him forward, bending him until he lay flat against Coulson’s chest, the other man’s dick still lodged within him. Coulson smiled up at him, his arms now wrapping around Clint to provide support. For a half second Clint wasn’t sure what was about to happen. Then he felt them. Fury’s fingers squeezed into him,crammed besides Coulson’s stiffness. “You’re not gonna...” 

“Do you trust me?” Fury repeated. 

“Yes, sir.” Clint swallowed, another finger pushing its way into him. 

Phil pulled him in tighter, Clint’s dick smashed between their bodies as Phil gently nibbled on his ear. He whispered, “Daddy.” 

“Yes, Daddy.” Clint corrected himself another finger slipped inside him. 

“It’s going to hurt at first,” Phil whispered. He felt Barton’s body tensing when Fury removed his fingers. Gently he rubbed the man’s back stared him straight in the eye and pressed his lips to Clint’s. Pain was not the right word to describe it. Being double penetrated by anyone would be painful. Being double penetrated by a tools as formidable as Fury’s was enough to cripple a man. Luckily for Clint, Coulson’s lips were novocain. He was melting into the embrace of the man below, Phil’s tongue probing the archer’s mouth. His eyes promising the pain had a purpose, promising trust, promising maybe even love? Clint didn’t know. Clint just knew he wanted to live in this moment forever. 

Phil wasn’t one hundred percent certain what Clint was feeling when their lips parted because he was met with an array of sounds. They were moans and groans and not a single discernible word for a solid five minutes when Fury was completely inside him. Then he managed to utter “Thank you, Daddy” The sensations were incredible. Clint’s body pressing down on him. Fury’s dick squeezed against his own all in the confines of Barton’s hole. Yet it were those words that were true bliss to Phil because when he heard them he knew that Clint belonged. He knew that Fury realized it too. He knew this was only the beginning. 

Fury had begun thrusting gently but deliberately, as best a man could considering. It didn’t take long from then. Clint came first, unable to to hold himself back. The pain and the pleasure came to a head as he exploded all over Phil’s chest. Fury and Phil managed to climax together moments later. All three men were spent beyond words. Nick rolled to the side, his deflated member slipping out of Clint’s abused hole. For all the energy he had in him, Clint just lay on top of Phil and Coulson was very pleased with that outcome. 

***

An hour later, the men remained on the floor draped in post coital bliss when Natasha entered the room. She didn’t seem surprised by this sight, more amused then anything. “I just wanted to tell you that the Helicarrier has touched down in New Mexico.”

“Good,” Fury responded. “Barton, go suit up. I may need you to kill a God.” 

Clint laughed to himself. He had no idea what he got himself into but he was very into it. He pushed himself to his feet and casually sauntered out of the room naked as the day he was born. Natasha looked at the other two men, happy she could stop pretending to notice they’d been fucking. “Next time make sure he does the tongue thing, he’ll know what you mean.” And with that (rather good) advice she left the two most powerful men in the US government to snuggle naked and cum soaked on the cold metal floor.

“So... there is going to be a next time, right?” Coulson asked gently. 

“There is sure as hell going to be a next time.” Fury nodded. 

“Good. I need to know what the tongue thing is.” Coulson smirked getting a rare smile from Fury who gave him gentle peck.


End file.
